


kisumi day 2016

by popnographic



Series: Rarepair drabbles [23]
Category: Free!
Genre: Angst, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-08 06:12:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6842116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popnographic/pseuds/popnographic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles where Kisumi is the centre of attention in different pairings, posted for <a href="http://kisumiday.tumblr.com">Kisumi Day 2016</a>.</p><p>Chapter 1 <b>(KisuMako)</b>: Rated <b>G</b><br/>Chapter 2 <b>(SouKisu)</b>: Rated <b>M</b><br/>Chapter 3 <b>(KisuHaru)</b>: Rated <b>T</b><br/>Chapter 4 <b>(KisuRin)</b>: Rated <b>T</b><br/>Chapter 5 <b>(KisuRei)</b>: Rated <b>E</b><br/>Chapter 6 <b>(KisuGou)</b>: Rated <b>G</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. with Makoto

Monday mornings are the absolute worst. Not only just because Monday means another week of work ahead, but also because it means _early_ mornings with less cuddling. And no matter how many times they’ve been through this, Kisumi _still_ can’t get used to it. Or rather, he doesn’t _want_ to.

The alarm clock on Makoto’s phone rings at a quarter to six as usual. His habit of taking his sweet time in the morning hasn’t gotten better in all these years, but it’s something Kisumi actually appreciates. Especially on Monday mornings.

He moves closer to Makoto, draping an arm over his middle and embracing him from behind, placing a few kisses up Makoto’s back.

“Good morning,” Makoto yawns. “I envy you for being able to sleep for a little longer.”

“I don’t mind waking up at the same time as you,” Kisumi hums, nose slowly running up and down Makoto’s spine. “Because I get to do this.”

Makoto laughs. “Not for much longer. You know I’m terrible with getting ready in the morning; that’s why I set the alarm to go off earlier in the first place.”

“So what if you’re a little late? Blame it on a hangover,” Kisumi says between kisses pressed to the nape of Makoto’s neck as he takes in his boyfriend’s scent and enjoys his warmth. Makoto huffs.

“I wouldn’t dream of drinking on a Sunday.” Makoto wriggles his way out of Kisumi’s arms, and gets out of bed.

Kisumi pouts as a result, and props his chin up on his palm, elbow on the mattress beneath him. While he’s sad about Makoto’s absence next to him in bed, he _does_ enjoy the view of Makoto’s back as he stands up to stretch his upper body.

“I’m kiss-deprived,” he complains. “You’d better make it up to me tonight.”

Makoto turns around after putting his shirt on, and he kisses his boyfriend on the top of his head. “I will. Promise.”

“Good,” Kisumi smiles. “See you tonight, then.”

“Yeah.”


	2. with Sousuke

Family dinners are okay, Kisumi doesn’t really mind them. He loves his family, and they’ve taken a liking to Sousuke, too, which definitely helps during family dinners when Sousuke tags along. Sure, it took Hayato a little while to stop being scared shitless of Sousuke’s resting bitch face and generally terrifying demeanour—well, in the eyes of a ten year old kid, that is—but things went over well.

The dinner itself isn't what Kisumi can barely stand. It’s the fact that Sousuke has decided tonight to be an even bigger ass than he usually is, constantly stroking the inside of Kisumi’s thigh under the table, sometimes even going further than that and making it _very_ difficult for Kisumi to keep a straight face.

These gatherings mean you can’t wear sweatpants, which Kisumi could’ve _definitely_ benefitted from right now, as his jeans are sitting awfully tight thanks to a certain someone sitting right next to him. Sousuke’s having no trouble being polite and talking to his parents like he _isn’t_ trying to drive Kisumi up the wall.

Kisumi considers giving Sousuke the same treatment to make him suffer at least as much as Kisumi himself is suffering right now, but he decides against it in the end, and keeps himself sane by thinking about the fact that they won’t be stuck here _all_ night. He just wonders if he’ll be able to walk out of his family’s house without looking like he’s got something up his ass (oh, if only he _did_ ) just because there’s no good way for him to conceal such an obvious erection.

By some divine miracle, or just some bastard feeling sorry for him, Kisumi manages to say goodbye to his family and walk out their door without any issues. His walk is a little stiff, sure, but he must’ve had a convincing look on his face since no one questioned him.

“I’m gonna get you back for this,” Kisumi groans under his breath as they get into the taxi that takes them back home. The ride between his family’s house and his and Sousuke’s apartment has never felt longer, that’s for sure. Kisumi feels like this might just be the worst thing he’s experienced in a long time, and that includes him having confessed to Sousuke far too loudly in their university library all those years ago.

When they finally make it inside their apartment, Kisumi has just enough self-restraint to let Sousuke step out of his shoes and walk inside before he pretty much pushes Sousuke up against the wall in their living room. It’s a damn miracle the photo on the wall right by Sousuke’s head doesn’t fall down with the impact.

“So do you wanna— _mffff_.”

Sousuke doesn’t get to say anything else before Kisumi drowns out his words with a greedy kiss. He nibbles on Sousuke’s bottom lip—maybe a little too hard, but he can’t help himself after what he’s been put through tonight—tugs at Sousuke’s clothes and prompting Sousuke to take his shirt off at least.

His fingers eagerly explore the skin exposed as Sousuke’s taken his shirt off; fingertips brushing over goosebumps that break out all over Sousuke’s torso, over a hard nipple as he hears Sousuke gasp, and it sends a jolt straight down to his, still very aching, erection. Kisumi’s lips travel further down; along Sousuke’s jawline, down his neck

“Sou,” he almost wheezes against Sousuke’s lips. “I’ve wanted to fuck you since you fucked with me at my parents’ dinner table.”

Sousuke snorts. “You don’t think that’s what I’ve wanted too?”

“Then why didn’t you stop?! That certainly didn’t _help_ , you know.”

“I needed a way to relieve my aggression, and I’d say that was a pretty good idea.”

There’s a growl that doesn’t make it past Kisumi’s lips but stays in his throat, and then Kisumi kisses Sousuke again, pushing his knee against Sousuke’s crotch to make him moan again. So what if Sousuke ends up with sore lips and maybe a few small bruises around them when Kisumi’s done with him? Serves him right.

He pulls away slightly out of breath, and glares at Sousuke. “You know you’re gonna regret this, right?”

“Are you going to?” Sousuke counters.

“No.”

“Then I won’t, either.”

As if Kisumi still won’t try to make Sousuke regret what he did.


	3. with Haruka

He can barely hear his father on the phone over his mother’s loud crying, but Kisumi doesn’t _need_ his father to tell him what’s happened, because he knows as soon as he picks up the phone call. And his heart sinks in his chest, feels like it completely shatters as if it were made of glass and was dropped on marble floor. His dad doesn’t need to say it, but he does anyway, and when he does, Kisumi’s entire world collapses beneath his feet.

Kisumi knew it was going to happen. People don’t live forever, as much as he’d like for some people to do so. Some people are too good to leave this world, to leave _him_. When Kisumi’s father _still_ says the words Kisumi doesn’t want or need to hear, Kisumi thinks back on the times he spent with his grandmother, feels immense guilt over those gifts she gave him when he was younger and he didn’t appreciate. It’s too late for all of this now, and he hates how death always seems to remind people of things they should’ve done or felt far sooner, when the person in question was still alive.

He sits down on the couch, barely holding onto his phone as he hears, but doesn’t listen to, his father talking on the other end. Haruka’s been by his side ever since he probably heard Kisumi picking up the phone, sitting next to him without saying a word. He feels like his throat is completely dry and as if it’s made of sandpaper when he finally speaks up after what feels like hours.

“Dad, I’ve… gotta go.”

His mother is still crying on the other end of the line, and Kisumi wants nothing but to be there with her right now, but at the same time he’s glad he isn’t.

“ _Come to the wake_ ,” his father says, voice more gentle than it has been in years—it almost sounds pleading. “ _I know it’ll be hard, but… she would want you there._ ”

Kisumi promises to try and attend his grandmother’s wake, and he hangs up. Or rather, he lets his phone drop down onto the carpet beneath his feet, and then he stares. At what, he doesn’t know, nor does he care. It feels like a dream, like he isn’t quite _there_ , like this isn’t happening. Like his father hadn’t just called him to let him know his grandmother passed away.

The silence that follows the phone call is deafening. He doesn’t like it, but doesn’t really know what to do about it, either. Haruka’s still not saying anything from where he sits right next to Kisumi, but he _does_ take Kisumi’s hand between his own. Kisumi lets out a shaky exhale, closing his eyes, and he feels Haruka softly kiss his knuckles.

When his breath hitches on a sob, Haruka finally takes Kisumi into his embrace, and Kisumi doesn’t want to be anywhere else but right there, for as long as he’s allowed to.

“I’m sorry,” Haruka murmurs into his hair, and that’s all he says. Kisumi nods slowly, and lets himself cry into the crook of Haruka’s neck, lets himself be vulnerable for once. He rarely ever cries, and if he does, it’s usually out of happiness. He considers himself lucky in that regard, but Kisumi always knew it wouldn’t last forever. Nothing does.

Three days later, Kisumi attends the wake with Haruka by his side. He endures the seemingly endless stream of condolences from relatives and close family friends, lights incense sticks by a shrine raised in his grandmother’s honour, but he can barely even look at the portrait of her in doing so. It hurts and Kisumi wants nothing but to get out of there as soon as he can, but Haruka holding his hand throughout the wake makes him willing to stay to the end of it.

He knows it’ll take him a while to heal, but he isn’t alone, and that in and of itself makes Kisumi think that he might be able to get through it.

While Kisumi doesn’t attend the funeral itself, from that day, he always keeps a picture of himself as a child with his grandmother in his wallet. The first time he visits her grave, he spends approximately a minute and a half in front of it before he leaves. The next time, he’s there for a whole five minutes, but he still doesn’t talk to his grandmother even though people say he can and should.

“It’s never too late,” Haruka had told him. “You can still admit to her that you didn’t like some of the gifts she gave you when you were younger. You can still say you would’ve liked to have spent more time with her when she was alive. I know she’ll hear you, and she’ll believe you.”

It takes him a while, but then he does properly talk to his grandmother. He apologises, tells her things he was never able to when she was alive, asks her questions he won’t hear an answer to. But it helps to just have them out there, because now he’s at least asked.

“You were right,” he says. It’s dark, and he can barely see anything, but Kisumi knows Haruka’s awake since he still isn’t breathing deeply like he does when he’s asleep. “It does help. Talking to her.”

“I know,” Haruka replies. Kisumi _knows_ this, because Haruka’s been through the same thing himself. “I’m glad it does.”

This time, Kisumi’s the one to take Haruka’s hand in his own, and he kisses the back of it. “Thanks, Haru.”

He hears a little huff, but he doesn’t need to turn on the lights to know Haruka’s smiling. “Sure.”


	4. with Rin

Kisumi wakes up with a jolt, breathing heavily as if he’s been running. He feels like he has, because he’s sweating, too. He’s sweating, but what’s running down from his eyes and down onto the pillow is _definitely_ not sweat, he knows that much.

This is the second time in a week it’s happened. The nightmares usually don’t haunt him this often; they’re very far in between for the most part. He’s just had a bad week.

With a quiet sigh, Kisumi gently pries Rin’s arm off his waist so he can get out of bed. He needs a cold shower and to just be up for a little bit before he can attempt going back to sleep. The last thing he needs is to dive straight back into his nightmares, and though he has to get up for work in a few hours, he’ll have to sacrifice some sleep… again.

Shower helps a lot. It makes him a bit more awake, and by the time he’s dried himself off and gotten into an oversized t-shirt and boxers, he’s not all that tired anymore. A quick glance up at the clock on the kitchen wall tells him it’s just past four in the morning. He might as well just stay up since he has to get up in two hours; there’s no point in trying to go back to sleep _now_ , even if he were to sleep on the couch.

So Kisumi makes himself breakfast instead. As quietly as he can, he takes out milk, eggs, butter and bacon from the fridge. The sky has just started getting brighter, and soon he’ll probably be able to see the sunrise. It isn’t often he does, so maybe he should appreciate the moment for what it’s worth, despite the reason for him being up at this hour.

Rin always tells him it’ll pass. It’s temporary, just a nightmare, none of it’s real. The silhouettes he sees in his dreams are just spouting nonsense, but the nonsense sure makes a whole lot of sense to him while he’s still trapped in the dream.

It’s been nearly half a lifetime since he was in middle school, there’s realistically no reason for those words to hold up today, even if they might have back then. He’s been proven over and over since they all started hanging out regularly again that these people have come back into his life to _stay_. Rin, Sousuke, Haruka, Makoto… all of them. They’ve made sure he knows his place in the world, in their group, and that he doesn’t want to be anywhere else.

Kisumi flinches and is brought back to reality when two arms wrap around his middle. “Can’t sleep?”

“Not really, no,” Kisumi responds. He puts a hand over Rin’s briefly before he lets it fall to his side. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t. I woke up because you weren’t there.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise for that, idiot,” Rin gently chastises. “Nightmare again, huh?”

 “Yeah.”

Rin hums in response, but doesn’t say anything else. He softly rubs his nose against Kisumi’s back, moves further up and kisses him on the back of his neck. Kisumi turns off the stove, and just lets himself stand in place, knowing that’s what Rin wants him to do for at least a little bit. The thought of what Rin must look like right now behind him—standing on his toes and probably frowning a bit in trying to stay in that position—makes Kisumi smile to himself.

After a few minutes, Rin lets him go, allowing Kisumi to transfer his scrambled eggs onto the plate beside the bacon. The two sit down by the kitchen table, and the silence between them doesn’t last much longer before Rin speaks.

“Sunrise,” he says in slight awe, and Kisumi turns to look out the window. Indeed, the sun is slowly rising above the cityscape, above the buildings. Kisumi almost forgets to eat as he’s so caught up in the serenity of watching the sunrise and enjoying the silence before the town outside wakes up.

“We should get up earlier more often,” Kisumi suggests. “To watch the sunrise, I mean. It’s nice.”

“Yeah,” Rin replies, and Kisumi sees him smile in the corner of his eye. He smiles, too, and Rin takes his hand over the table. “Feel better?”

“I do. Thanks, Rin.”

“Sure.”

A new day begins outside, begins for them. And Kisumi decides to leave his nightmares with yesterday as he heads off to work.


	5. with Rei

He alternates between grasping at the sheets, and sometimes tangling his fingers in Rei’s hair. Kisumi doesn’t want to accidentally pull a whole bunch of hairs off Rei’s head, of course, but it’s getting increasingly difficult to hold back, which is why he’s now clutching _really_ hard at the sheets as he’s gasping for air and moaning intermittently. The insides of his thighs have just about started to sting a little, but he doesn’t mind that since it _does_ distract him a little from everything else that’s going on.

Rei rests his hands on Kisumi’s thighs as he sucks at the skin on Kisumi’s inner thigh, moves back up and licks up along the underside of Kisumi’s cock, swirling his tongue around the tip. He hasn’t actually begun sucking Kisumi off yet, and despite that, Kisumi feels like he could come any second now. The cum leaking down from his cock would _definitely_ be a testament to that, if anything.

“You’re… such a _tease_ ,” he breathes. “Oh my god.”

Rei laughs a little, and looks up. “I don’t want you to come yet, obviously.”

“I can tell, and you’re good at making me literally chase my orgasm. Soon enough I’m gonna b-beg for i— _ah_!”

He doesn’t even get to finish talking before he’s cut off by Rei dragging his tongue up his cock again. Still no sucking—Kisumi feels like he’s going to go absolutely insane.

“Please just let me come,” he whines. “I’ve been close for what feels like… half an hour now.”

“Hm,” Rei muses. “That might not be too far off, actually.”

Kisumi _almost_ plays the ‘hey you’re a year younger than me’ card, but in reality—as much as he just really wants to come—he absolutely _loves_ what Rei’s doing to him. He should probably enjoy it as much as he can, because there’s no telling whether or not this’ll just be a one-night stand, or if he’ll have the pleasure of doing this again.

Okay, so they’re far from sober, and that’s probably the biggest contributing factor to him lying in Rei’s bed, but he’s wanted to fuck Rei for far longer than that. Ever since that one time at the end of high school when most of his close friends had gotten soaked by water guns. Whoever came up with that idea is someone Kisumi still has to thank, because it opened his eyes for Rei, whom he otherwise probably wouldn’t notice.

Kisumi nearly screams when Rei _finally_ takes his cock in, swallowing it bit by bit and coating Kisumi's cock in a layer of saliva that makes it almost too easy for Rei to take him out again. The sight of Rei giving him a blowjob, seeing his cock disappear bit by bit into Rei’s mouth, nearly makes Kisumi dizzy; he’s absolutely sure it has _nothing_ to do with the excessive amounts of alcohol he’s had tonight.

“Holy _fuck_ ,” he exclaims. Thankfully, Rei’s given up on teasing him and seems fully intent on making Kisumi come. He bobs his head up and down at a steady pace, uses one hand to stroke Kisumi simultaneously, while the other rests on his thigh as support.

And as expected, it doesn’t take Kisumi long before he _finally_ reaches his orgasm, and Rei doesn’t even hesitate to swallow. Kisumi can’t help but raise his eyebrows, impressed.

“I had no idea you were capable of these things, Rei,” he sighs as Rei sits back up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Rei snorts.

“Sorry if this sounds rude, but you really don’t know much about me.”

Kisumi smiles. “I hope that can change; I want to know more about you.”

“That’s just the alcohol talking,” Rei responds with a roll of his eyes, and Kisumi quickly shakes his head.

“No, I mean it.”

“Oh. Well… I guess… I mean, likewise.”

Kisumi laughs, and sits up in bed again. As cool as Rei had looked during this entire thing—not to mention _sexy_ —there’s no doubt he’s still, at least to _some_ extent, that guy Kisumi ‘discovered’ at the end of high school. Some things apparently never change.

“Glad to hear that. Now, switch me.”

“What?”

Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes. “Payback, obviously.”

Rei’s eyes widen with the realisation, and he clears his throat, cheeks reddening ever so slightly. “Oh.”

He does obey, though, taking the spot Kisumi had been in not even a minute earlier, and Kisumi scoots down to begin wriggling down Rei’s boxers. “I’m gonna make you both regret this _and_ want it again at the same time.”

Rei raises an eyebrow. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Honey, I _never_ make sense.”


	6. with Gou

Kisumi turns over in bed and _again_ feels the coldness of Gou’s empty side. He knows she won’t be back until tomorrow, but the loneliness has had a vice grip on him since the day before. Maybe even since the day she left, but Kisumi won’t really admit that, not even to himself. He’s a grown man, he can take care of himself.

… Gou is going to be _so_ mad when she finds out he hasn’t done any laundry. That pile of dishes in the sink is probably something he needs to do something about before she comes home, too.

With a heavy sigh, Kisumi gets out of bed, only to nearly fall over in shock when his phone suddenly buzzes. He raises his eyebrows to the point where they disappear in under his bangs when he sees who the text message is from, and then he smiles.

 **Hayato** : _happy birthday, kis! see u on saturday, and tell gou i said hi_.”

 

It would be a blatant lie if Kisumi were to say he didn’t remember what day today is. Not in a way that children get excited for their birthdays, but it’s still a birthday, a celebration of the fact that he’s lived another year without any major setbacks. Honestly, Gou’s probably the one he should thank for that fact—he’d probably be in _big_ trouble without her.

He makes himself a quick breakfast after his usual morning shower, scarfing it down within minutes to get himself dressed for yet another day at work. What’s the most disheartening thing about his job is that no one knows when his birthday is. And why should he go around and tell people? Isn’t that something you’d ask in conversation or something? Sure, not that Kisumi knows the birthdays of _every single one_ of his co-workers, but some of them. At least those he considers worth remembering.

The office atmosphere is hectic as it always is when Kisumi arrives. He greets the people he sees on the way to his cubicle with a half-hearted smile and a ‘good morning’ before he sits down with a sigh. A quick look on the clock on the wall tells him he’s _just_ on time; another one of his weird talents. Never late, but always too early or right on time.

While his computer starts up— _man_ , is that piece of crap slow—Kisumi trudges towards the coffee machine and makes himself espresso. A double. It’s probably the minimum amount of caffeine required for his brain to kick into the right gear so he can finish his drafts before noon, which is his deadline. Always noon.

During the day, he _does_ manage to finish them as well as type together a quick but detailed press release since the new guy apparently doesn’t understand how grammar works. (That’s at least what his boss tells _him_ , but Kisumi knows that whatever he tells the others is something he’d have a hard time to _not_ snort at.)

Kisumi wonders if it’s dumb of him to expect at least a happy birthday text from his friends like the one he’d gotten from Hayato earlier that morning. Is it really too much to ask for after all these years? He always calls them or sends a text, and they always seem to appreciate it. Why does it feel like he’s the only one who remembers birthdays besides Gou?

Oh, how he misses her now. Gou’s business trip couldn’t have come at a worse time.

But Kisumi _does_ power through—or rather, cope with—his day, and is the first one to leave the building when the clock strikes four thirty. All he wants is to go home and dive straight in under his duvet to have this day over and done with already. He’s hungry since his lunch consisting of a convenience store bought onigiri wasn’t nearly enough to satiate his hunger, and while he _does_ need to eat, he doesn’t have the energy to cook himself anything.

What a birthday.

He knows he can’t blame Gou; she probably wouldn’t have been able to decline going on this business trip, and Kisumi isn’t going to jeopardise her job just because he wants her home on his birthday, but he can’t deny that it does sting a bit that his most important person isn’t around for it. Yes, he has a birthday every year, and she’s been around for quite a few of them, but he _still_ isn’t okay with it.

Kisumi walks inside the apartment with a heavy, exhausted sigh and throws his keys on the hallway table. The silence in there makes it ten times worse; usually he has the TV on or is listening to music to drown it out, but since he’s just come home, the silence in their apartment hits him like a brick to the face. He almost considers walking out again.

But then he walks into the living room,

“Gou?! I thought… you weren’t coming home until… tomorrow,” he trails off.

“See, I was going to just call you and wish you a happy birthday,” Gou says as she gets up from the couch and walks towards him. “But I pulled a few strings since I wanted to be with you on your birthday.”

Kisumi takes the last few strides and takes his girlfriend into his arms, nearly making her drop the bouquet of flowers. “This is the best birthday gift I’ve ever been given.”

“You mean the flowers?”

“Ha ha.”

Kisumi puts a hand behind Gou’s head and kisses her slowly, as if he hasn’t seen her in weeks when it’s just been a few days. She hums in contentment against his lips and happily reciprocates the kiss, standing on her toes to reach while Kisumi in turn bends down a bit. While he’d preferred that they _didn’t_ have to spend days apart like this, he’ll definitely be the first to say that it was well worth it to have her come home and surprise him like this.

Too soon, Gou pulls away, and finally gives him the flowers. It’s a bouquet of mixed flowers; tulips, roses, daisies, and lilies—a very colourful bouquet, to say the least. Every single thing he’d been annoyed about during the day just magically runs off him like water. And speaking of water, he isn’t really crying, but there might just be something in his eyes. Both of them. Whatever it is, it’s very difficult to get out, and—

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Gou says, lifting up a hand to wipe away the tears slowly running down his face.

Okay, so maybe he _is_ crying. Kisumi sniffles and shakes his head, smiling.

“Happy tears,” he explains. “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me too. Happy birthday, Kisumi.”

“Thank you.”

“Now get dressed into something a little less business-y, we have a dinner reservation.”

He raises his eyebrows. “A what?”

“Dinner, Kisumi. It’s your birthday, of _course_ I’d have something planned. ‘Sides, we don’t wanna keep the others waiting, right?”

The others?

Kisumi’s faced with an even greater shock when they arrive at the restaurant Gou had picked, as he’s met by those friends of his he’d been grumpy about not having wished him a happy birthday earlier.

So _that’s_ why.

He leans close to Gou and whispers into her ear: “Did I mention how amazing you are?”

“You might have, on a few occasions. Doesn’t hurt to hear it again, though.”

Kisumi gives her a kiss on the top of her head before the two go up to meet the others for what Kisumi now knows will be an amazing evening.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://radiodread.tumblr.com)


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